


What Was Lost

by Airu



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airu/pseuds/Airu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bolsheviks came...and took those few who accepted him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Was Lost

Russia broke down the door of the room that the Bolsheviks had him prisoned while they killed the Romanovs. Up until the last few moments before when they attacked, they had kept the details of the plan hidden from Russia. They knew that he would never stand for his подсолнечникa Anastasia's murder. He ran through the palace, throwing open doors to find her or at least her corpse.

Russia found her laying in the snow of her favourite palace garden, the one that grew the sunflowers after which her nickname was lovingly given. Her hands were folded over her upper stomach—right above a gunshot wound. A small trickle of blood ran from Anastasia's mouth and down the side of her face, and her blue eyes where tenderly closed to give an appearance of sleep. Her strawberry-blonde hair fanned around her body, sinking into the snow.

“No...” Russia choked, refusing to process what he was seeing.

“I'm sorry, Russia, but had to be done,” Stalin whispered cruelly as he watched his great country break down over an insignificant pest.

“Why are you here? Doesn't Lenin already know that I can't stand you?” Russia growled.

“Huh, it must have slipped his mind among all of the bloodshed...” he smirked.

“Again, I ask what was the point of killing off an innocent child who had nothing to do with her father's matters and mistakes?” Russia hissed. No one was going to take his precious подсолнечник from him and get away with it.

“Oh, maybe if she blabbed to her great-grandmother, Queen Victoria, that would cause trouble and then England would try to get Anastasia back into rule as the czarina of Russia, and our country would become imperial again instead of communist,” Stalin said.

“ _Or_ she might have proved to have been a valuable ally, with convincing the superpowers of the world that our brand of communism isn't that bad. That, and she was still young enough to have been easily shown our way of perceiving a government wasn't bad, either,” Russia mused, developing a sense of distrust for the Bolsheviks.

“True, but there would still be a great chance of it not working, and her betraying us.”

“The same way you Bolsheviks betrayed _me_ , your _country_ when you had promised that she would live?”

Seeing his hypocrisy, Stalin decided to just leave before he dug his grave deeper. Russia had no problem with it and found his peace to mull over his Anastasia's death. How could they take away such an innocent life, one that had done no wrong, and expect him not to vow vengeance? He would wonder. In Russia's mind, he had seen her as a cheery face amongst the palace, even during the country's darkest hours. She would play numerous pranks, and her laughter would fill the halls of the St. Petersburg Palace throughout the coldest of days. To Russia not Olga, Tatiana, or even Maria had a spirit as free as Anastasia's. And yet... that fire that burned inside her seemed to have disappeared along with her life.

“My dear подсолнечник... I thought that you would live to a ripe old age and die amongst friends, never something without a cause... something that I should have been able to stop...” Russia whispered to wherever her soul might have ended up by now. He lay there next to her corpse for hours, thinking of all of the things he could have done to save her. Eventually, he fell into unconsciousness from all of the stress that not only he went through, but his country as well.

When Russia came to, he was tucked in in his bed. His younger sister, Belarus, was hovering over him, while his older one Ukraine was looking worried in a corner.

“Sister... where is she?” Russia croaked.

“Who do you mean, big brother?” Belarus narrowed her eyes. She never did acknowledge that her brother loved Anastasia instead of her, and promptly decided to blatantly ignore her very existence.

“Sister, you know exactly who I'm talking about. Anastasia,” he glared upwards.

“Oh. The little snot. All I know is that they took her body away and buried it somewhere. I don't know where, since they kept it a secret. Not even Lenin knows the exact location of her grave,” Belarus sniffed in disgust.

“At least they did that...” Russia sighed.

_'My dear_ подсолнечник, _I promise to find you. I will dig up every inch of land until I find you and your siblings. Then, once I do that, I will give you all a proper burial. You will rest for eternity next to my other closest humans. You, Anastasia, will get a special place—you will lay next to Catherine the Great. I know it isn't much, but I will spend the next millennium at least trying to make it up to you. I will be forever sorry for what I did do, and what I failed to do._ _Dasvidaniya,_ подсолнечник. _Until we meet again,'_ he vowed to himself.

 

 

Translations:

  * подсолнечник—Sunflower

  * Dasvidaniya—Goodbye




 


End file.
